


Merrier the More

by servecobwebheadaches



Series: The Sex Pollen Fanfictions [2]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, M/M, Smut, There's actually a plot, Top!Ryan, bottom!Brendon, sex-pollen, this is a ryden fic I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 21:07:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10839480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servecobwebheadaches/pseuds/servecobwebheadaches
Summary: Ryan isn't quite sure how to handle Brendon's predicament anymore, but Brendon is willing to try everything—or everyone.(Sequel to Pressure the Passionate.)





	Merrier the More

**Author's Note:**

> This took me way longer than planned to write, but the word count is also a lot higher than I thought it was going to be. Oh well. Many thanks to Casey @just-folie-a-deux-it and Hannah @buttercupross on tumblr for all the encouragement and also just being really cool. So here it is.

“Ryan, baby, if I fall asleep tonight, don't take it personally, okay?  Today was just really long, and I would go to sleep now, but we only have, like, thirty minutes, and I don't want to do that to you—”

 

“Hush, B.  I know you're exhausted, poor thing.  You don't have to work hard tonight.  I can do everything for you.”

 

“Everything?” Brendon questioned, looking up at Ryan from where he had his face buried in his shoulder.

 

Ryan could see the look of hopefulness in Brendon's eyes, and gulped.  He wondered what exactly he had just gotten himself into.  Even though Ryan was tired too, he agreed, “Everything.”

 

“Thank you,” Brendon said, bashful.

 

“Mm hmm.  Let's get you set up in bed early so we don't do anything dumb,” Ryan said.  Still having his wits about him was better.  Brendon groaned in protest, not wanting to move from how he was leaning into Ryan's side.  “Remember when you hurt your back?  Let's not do that again,” Ryan reminded, trying to get Brendon to help him out a little bit.

 

“Just don't ever fuck me on a glass top table like that, and I'll be fine,” Brendon said.

 

“You really are tired, aren't you?  Come on.  We’ve got less than half an hour, we need to go to bed.”

 

“Carry me?  I'm too tired to get up.”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes at Brendon, but complied, scooping Brendon up.  The boy wound his arms and legs around Ryan and clung on, nuzzling Ryan's neck sleepily the whole way to their bedroom.  Ryan did feel a certain pity for him, but it would be solved with Ryan taking care of every last thing for Brendon over the next six hours.

 

He lowered Brendon onto the bed, resting his head on all the pillows, and Brendon's eyes instantly closed.  Ryan's eyelids felt heavy just with that, but he knew he would be more awake soon.  “Can I take your clothes off now?” Ryan asked, still trying to make things easier for himself.  When they were too sex-crazed to form much of a thought, removing each other’s clothes often resulted in scratches and bruises and tears in the fabric, enough to ruin certain shirts and pants.  Ryan thought that was such a waste, and highly preferred to get naked before the arousal hit them.

 

Brendon nodded against the pillows as a way of giving Ryan permission.  “It's your night to do what you want, I guess.  Have fun,” he said, drowsiness seeping into his voice.  Aside from raising his hips and head a few times, Ryan managed to strip the boy while he was still laying down, before ridding himself of clothing.

 

At just the touch of the cold air, Brendon's skin broke out in goosebumps.  He was plainly exhausted, and every instinct of Ryan's was telling him to cover Brendon up in blankets and let him sleep.  However, he knew they wouldn't have that luxury.  All Ryan could do was be gentle with him.  “What do you think you'll want tonight, sweetheart?” Ryan asked him, brushing his hair off his forehead.

 

“You don't need to use anything unless you want to,” Brendon said.  “I'm fine doing missionary for the next six hours.”

 

“I'm tired, too,” Ryan yawned, “and that's a lot of work.”

 

Ryan bent down beside the bed, opening the drawers of Brendon's nightstand.  “Can we use some toys?  So I can have a little bit of a break?” Ryan said, looking up at Brendon.

 

Brendon turned his head to look at him and hummed.  “Sure.  I'll probably like it.”

 

“Just let me know if you don't.”  Ryan dug through to the bottom of the drawer, and pulled out a small, black box, completely concealing what was inside.  He opened the lid and took the plug between his fingers, one of the longer and thicker ones compared to what he usually used on Brendon.  It was black and simple, but it would be enough to help Brendon be sated if Ryan needed a few moments to recuperate.  “Is this one good?” Ryan asked, holding it up to Brendon.

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, that'll be nice,” Brendon said.

 

“I think we still have a few minutes.  Do you need anything before we start?”

 

“Will you get us some water?  ‘Cus we’re just gonna pass the fuck out when this is done, and I know we’ll want water.”

 

“I'll be back,” Ryan said.  He looked at Brendon again, seeing him struggling just to keep his eyes open, dick flaccid and uninterested between his legs.  All that would change in a few minutes, when the clock ticked over to exactly six.

 

He filled up a couple glasses with water in their kitchen and took a deep breath.  It was going to be a long night.

 

He re-entered the bedroom to find that Brendon was no longer laying exhausted on the mattress, but instead he had retrieved two sets of handcuffs from the drawer.  In the middle of the bed, he sat on his knees, looking at Ryan with owlish eyes, the two metallic pairs of cuffs laid out in front of him.

 

“What's this?” Ryan questioned, taken aback.

 

“Handcuff me?  I—” Brendon cast his eyes away—“I don't want to be able to move.”

 

He wasn't begging for it—just the opposite, in fact—simply requesting something for when he did become desperate.  Ryan was fairly certain they had a few moments remaining before their session of sorts would begin, and Brendon was asking so nicely, Ryan couldn't say no.  “Okay,” Ryan said, “if that's what you want.”

 

Brendon nodded, and laid back, shoulders hitting the headboard.  There were worried lines between his eyebrows, and Ryan stooped to kiss him softly.  Not wanting to stall any longer, Ryan went ahead and straddled Brendon, feeling his eyes on him the whole time.

 

He picked up one set of the metallic handcuffs, running his fingers over the insides.  Truly, he didn't know how they could be comfortable, or why Brendon chose them over their ropes or leather cuffs, but he didn't protest as he latched up one of Brendon's wrists.

 

It was just as he locked it to the headboard that he felt Brendon's hips buck up underneath him.  Just once.  Ryan looked down, now distracted, just in time to see Brendon's eyes turn dark below him, glazing over in less than a couple seconds.

 

Tingles shot down Ryan's spine, and he dropped the second set of handcuffs to frantically kiss Brendon's mouth.  “Fuck, Ryan, please,” Brendon breathed, as soon as they pulled apart.

 

Brendon looked desperate already, and Ryan knew it was just the beginning.  To stop Brendon from begging too much, and to get on with things, Ryan shoved three of his fingers past Brendon's lips.

 

A testament to how wrecked Brendon was, his eyes rolled back as he suckled greedily on Ryan's fingers, using his free hand to hold his wrist.  Ryan rocked his hips down against Brendon's hard cock, naked skin rubbing together.  It was uncomfortably raw, but Ryan couldn't help it, too aroused to care.

 

He thought he might just come from watching Brendon suck his fingers, and he wouldn't be particularly surprised if he did.  Brendon's full, pink lips were sliding up and down his knuckles, deviously working his tongue to wet them.  “Look at you,” Ryan whispered, “so fucking slutty like that.”

 

Brendon popped off his fingers, and made eye contact to run his tongue all the way up the middle one.  Ryan's cock twitched.  “Finger me,” Brendon said.  “I need it.”

 

Ryan knew he was telling the full truth, and didn't hesitate to comply.  He moved down Brendon's body, and worked two of his fingers into Brendon's tight ass.  Ryan could hardly keep himself together to resist fucking him right then and there.  It wasn't like Brendon couldn't take it without prep—they'd done it a million times before—but Brendon had asked to be fingered, and Ryan would just have to wait.

 

Only slightly, Ryan curled his fingers inside Brendon, and Brendon tossed his head back with a moan.  At any other time, Ryan would think such a noise was obnoxious for just foreplay, but at the moment he knew Brendon was probably right on the edge of coming.

 

Ryan teased a third around his rim and said,  “You gonna come just from my fingers, baby boy?  Are you gonna come for me?”  He pushed his third finger in, beside the other two, and Brendon cried out as he came, ropes of come splattering his stomach and chest.

 

At that sight, Ryan groaned, cock throbbing.  On instinct, he took Brendon by the thighs, spreading his legs further, and sunk his cock into Brendon, shuddering in relief.  Brendon had no leverage to move, not with being half-tied up, but he was trying anyway.  With his attempts to fuck himself failing, he instead pleaded, “Fuck me, fuck me, you feel so good, Ryan, Ryan—”

 

Ryan pulled out, and slammed back into him, causing Brendon to go loose and limp underneath him, making a high pitched whine.  Ryan blamed the sounds Brendon was making as he came inside him, not even having to fuck him at all.

 

_ 6:08 _ .

 

<<<<<>>>>>

 

A week later, they'd cleared their schedules so they had all day to relax and not exhaust themselves too much before the night.  They stayed curled up in bed most of the day; the air seemed cold outside.  Ryan played with Brendon's hair, his head in his lap, as they watched movies, classics they'd already seen a thousand times.  He kept stealing glances at Brendon, watching his pretty, doll-like face, and felt surprisingly content.  It was nice to be so in love and have the security of Brendon being his.

 

Ryan almost wished he could do something nicer for Brendon that night, instead of just fuck his brains out.

 

Not that he didn't love that, too—the way he could make Brendon's face go bright red, the way Brendon's eyes rolled when he did something to give him extra pleasure, the way Brendon's hips moved helplessly as he tried to get more, more—but Ryan liked to spontaneously take Brendon out to his favorite restaurant, and be grossly loving with him, and cuddle him warmly until they fell asleep.  None of those things were possible with this spell, this  _ curse  _ they had to deal with once a week.

 

They made the best of it, of course.  Having sex that often was good for them.  It could be stress relieving, a way to channel frustration, or even something to ease any tension that arose in their relationship.  They had an excuse to experiment, figuring out what the other was into, as time passed.  It gave them more trust, and forced them to be more comfortable with each other than they already were.  Shameless.

 

Ryan liked seeing that side of Brendon, but there were downfalls.  They usually both ended up horribly sore the next morning.  Come stains were difficult to clean up when there were so many.  Touring fucking sucked, plain and simple.  There were even injuries that came with this thing.  Bruises, scrapes, a torn hamstring, back and neck aches—but they'd learned to be more careful.  Two years was a long enough time for them to figure out a thing or two about what was most efficient and safe.

 

With Brendon peacefully laying in bed with him, Brendon using Ryan's lap as a pillow, Ryan pondered it all and wondered if it would ever end, if something would lift the spell.

 

He wasn't watching the clock by any means, so naturally it came as a bit of a shock when Brendon shifted and said, “Touch me, oh my god, baby—”

 

Ryan looked down at him, observing his wide, pleading eyes, and thought, huh.  Maybe it had hit Brendon earlier that day than normal.

 

Yet when he looked over at the clock on his bedside table, he saw that it was just past six.

 

He didn't feel anything.

 

Brendon was still looking at him, gawking, in a way.  Waiting for Ryan to make a move.  Instead of feeling the need to get his hands all over Brendon, Ryan felt completely normal.  Sure, the look of pure lust Brendon was giving him was arousing, but it wasn't anything exceptional.

 

Clearly impatient, Brendon crawled up Ryan's body to kiss him, sitting in his lap.  Ryan kissed back, naturally, but he wasn't as desperate as Brendon was, not biting at all, or clawing at Brendon's clothes, or fucking  _ moaning _ into his lips.  He didn't feel it necessary.

 

He pulled away from Brendon, a little bit confused, a little bit nervous.  Brendon hadn't noticed yet, and Ryan wasn't sure when he would.

 

If he wasn't getting hit with the waves of arousal he and Brendon were expecting, then there was no way he was going to be able to keep up with Brendon for the rest of the night.  Nobody could do that.

 

He didn't make a sound as Brendon leaned heavily into his chest, and then began trailing kisses all the way down his torso.  The kisses were wet and opened-mouthed; hungry, and Ryan was freaking out.  Just a little bit.

 

Just because Ryan wasn't as crazily as turned on as Brendon, well, that didn't mean he wasn't human.  As Brendon unbuttoned his pants, palming longingly at Ryan's cock, he could feel himself starting to get hard.

 

Brendon's eyelids fluttered before he wrapped his lips around Ryan's cock, making haste to get him all the way down his throat.  A noise escaped Ryan's mouth, uncontrolled, but he had enough thoughtfulness to be surprised by it.

 

Brendon had natural ability with his mouth, always giving Ryan what he thought to be the best blowjobs of his life.  He was so good at knowing right where Ryan was the most sensitive, and he would move his tongue in the most perfect way.  Ryan could feel that wave of heat in his gut from Brendon giving him too much pleasure, but he didn't want to come.  Not really.  He knew Brendon would need to feel full, and it would take a few minutes or more at the very least for Ryan to get hard again.  He didn't want to do that to Brendon.  As lightly as he could manage, he reached down to touch Brendon's hair, get his attention from where he was entranced by Ryan's cock.  “B, stop, s-stop, I'm gonna—”

 

Unpleasantly, Brendon pulled off, but it was only for a second.  He said, “I want you to please come on my face,” in the most wrecked voice Ryan had ever heard from him, or at least noticed.  Then he was wrapping his lips around just the head of Ryan's cock, and Ryan didn't know how close he was to coming until it was too late.  His body spasmed as he came, eyes screwing shut and mouth falling open, hands gripping Brendon's hair tightly.  His come coated Brendon's lips, his cheeks, even hitting Brendon's hairline and eyelashes.

 

Brendon moaned and shoved a hand underneath himself, rocking his hips into his palm, and he came in a matter of seconds.  He had already made such a mess of himself, pants filled with come, and the sight of him like that was something that could turn Ryan on to no end.

 

The only issue was, he had just had a fairly intense orgasm.  “I need to feel you in me,” Brendon whispered, in the process of taking his pants off, but then getting distracted by touching himself, cock already hard again.  His lips and chin were dripping with Ryan's come and a little bit of saliva, hair stuck up from Ryan's hands, and he was about to start begging for Ryan to fuck him, he knew.  Yet, when Ryan's cock instinctively twitched at the sight of him, it was painful.  He wasn't even close to being ready for another round.

 

Brendon, on the other hand, was stroking his leaking cock, hips thrusting up into his hand, and he was staring at Ryan.  “Fuck me?  I need it, baby, you can pound me as hard as you want, fuck, please?”

 

“Lay down,” Ryan said, in the demanding way Brendon liked to be told what to do.

 

Brendon scrambled onto his back, spreading his legs for Ryan.  His thighs were shaking, and Ryan felt so, so bad.  Brendon needed something inside him, to hold him over until Ryan could at least get hard again, and Ryan was more than a little alarmed.  He should've been feeling just as needy as Brendon, shouldn't have been having a problem with simply fucking his begging boyfriend.

 

Ryan rested a hand on Brendon's inner thigh, moving to sit between Brendon's legs, and brought his fingers to Brendon's mouth.  “Get them wet enough,” he said, and Brendon wrapped his lips around three at once.  His fingers would have to do for now, even though he knew deep down that it wouldn't be enough for Brendon.

 

As a show of how desperate Brendon was getting, he only spent a few seconds on sucking Ryan's fingers, and was then pushing Ryan away and in the direction of fingering him.  Out of pity, Ryan didn't hesitate to push all three in at once, and Brendon cried out, grasping at the bed sheets.

 

His cock was swollen and asking for Ryan's attention by itself, and he stroked one finger up its length, just to elicit a reaction from Brendon, hear his noises.  Brendon came for the second time right then, and Ryan gulped.  He had a bad feeling about how the rest of the night was going to go.

 

“Ryan,” Brendon panted, “Ryan.  Fuck me, I need—”

 

Ryan scissored his fingers inside Brendon to get him to stop talking, and found it was successful.  A distraction.  Ryan took a deep breath and looked down at himself, finding his own cock only half hard, but that would have to change soon.

 

He looked up at Brendon in order to aid in the process—Brendon's hair was starting to stick to his face, which was bright pink; his lips were a deeper shade of red, parted to breathe deeply, eyes closed, chest heaving, drawing Ryan's attention to his nipples, hard and probably more sensitive than Ryan could really imagine, along with his cock, looking like it had been left untouched for hours, but it definitely hadn't.  Brendon was undeniably the most attractive thing Ryan had ever seen in his life, and he was right there at his fingertips.

 

Luckily, this was enough to get Ryan hard again, fully, and he almost felt relieved for Brendon.  He pulled his fingers out of Brendon to retrieve lube from the nightstand, not wanting to be careless, and Brendon let out a devastated whimper.  “Sh, sh, it’s alright,” Ryan automatically said.

 

After slicking his cock, Ryan grasped onto Brendon's thighs and sunk into him.  The whole thing was giving him more stimulation than he was used to, and it wasn't necessarily good.  It burned a little bit to be working his cock in and out of Brendon.  Yet Brendon was fucking back into it, obviously being unable to control himself, and Ryan closed his eyes.  He hoped he could keep this pace and last for a long period of time.  There was a mantra in his brain telling him that he wouldn't be able to last for six hours.

 

He tried to let himself enjoy fucking Brendon as much as he could, but there were a couple things too many that were off about the scenario.  Brendon wasn't really present in the moment; he wasn't having sex with Ryan as a show of intimacy or trust or any of the things Ryan preferred, it was just because he had some instinct telling him he needed his ass full of cock.  And Ryan happened to be the only one there.  He was also trying to hold himself back, just do the bare minimum to keep Brendon sated, because he needed to stall his next orgasm as long as he could.  And, finally, there was the issue nagging at him that he wasn't as affected by that damn fanfiction anymore as Brendon was, apparently, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do about it.

 

Brendon came again and clenched around Ryan's cock.  Ryan cursed.

 

Ryan wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Brendon hadn't caught on yet to Ryan's lack of desperation and enthusiasm in fucking him.  Brendon couldn't help that he needed this from Ryan, and Ryan knew that, but he selfishly wished he could have Brendon be more aware of his feelings, if even for only a moment.  Just a break.

 

It could've been Ryan's built-up stamina in bed, or it could've been Brendon's lack of it, but by the time Ryan finished inside of him, Brendon had come a total of five times.  The feeling of Ryan's come in his ass sent him into a sixth orgasm.

 

Ryan sighed and pulled out, feeling absolutely exhausted.  Even on a normal night, two rounds of sex was a lot for him, but when he had Brendon in this state, it was a whole different level of tiring.

 

He wanted to check the clock, see how much longer he was going to have to deal with this, but the sound of Brendon's voice distracted him.  It always did.  “You can fuck my throat again,” Brendon proposed, “harder, even, if you want.  Just.  Put a plug in me or something, please, I can't take how empty this is right now,  _ Ryan. _ ”

 

“A plug.  Right,” Ryan said, and he thanked his past self vigorously for making that investment.  A plug was such a smart idea, he didn't know how he had let it slip past him.

 

He bent by the nightstand to find one, and in the few seconds that it took, Brendon had folded his body in half to push his fingers in himself.

 

As guilty as he felt for doing it, Ryan took Brendon's wrist to ease his fingers out of himself, and Brendon fought him a little bit.  “You'll just be empty for a second, I promise,” Ryan said.  Brendon relaxed marginally, and Ryan replaced Brendon's three fingers with a slightly thicker plug.

 

Ryan was fairly certain the plug he had just slipped into Brendon's hole was the thickest of the bunch they were in possession of, which made Ryan's feelings of dread so much worse.  Brendon easily took it to the base, accommodating the whole thing, and he writhed on the bed.  With horror and fascination, Ryan watched Brendon's rim of muscle clench and relax around the plastic, once, twice.  It wasn't stretching him at all, not even filling him all the way, and Ryan's stomach dropped.  Brendon kept squirming, and Ryan knew his little size queen was going to throw a fit soon over this if he didn't do anything.

 

Brendon pushed himself up on his elbows, looking down at Ryan between his legs.  His hips were rolling pointlessly against the mattress, and Ryan was guessing Brendon wasn't even aware of it.  The impatient look on his face was unsettling, and he reached between his legs like he was about to push the plug in farther.  “Don't,” Ryan warned, “it’s already in all the way.”

 

Just with that, Brendon whined and threw himself down on the pillows.  “Just fucking fuck me, I need it, I—”

 

Ryan pulled the plug out, and he winced, almost expecting Brendon to shriek.  Brendon just thrashed around, and the muscles in his thighs and abdomen quivered.  Ryan pushed one finger in him, then another, one at a time until he had four fingers in, up to the knuckle.  “I'm  _ prepped _ , baby, I have been  _ forever _ , I can take your cock and I can take it  _ hard _ —”

 

Biting his lip and staring at the ceiling, Ryan exhaled shakily.  “I can't,” he finally admitted to Brendon.  “I physically can not fuck you right now.”

 

Brendon whined.  “Ryan, this isn't fair, you can't tease me, you know that.  I need it, I can't—”

 

“I'm serious,” Ryan said.

 

Seemingly angry, Brendon sat upright, hips still gyrating against Ryan's fingers.  “What the fuck, are you kidding me?  Aren't you—” Brendon's eyes traveled down Ryan's naked body, out of habit, out of helpless desire, and suddenly any and all expression drained from his face.  “You—you're not even hard?” Brendon whispered.

 

Ryan felt another overwhelming mix of pity and guilt at Brendon's heartbroken tone of voice, and he immediately spilt an apology.  Brendon looked defeated, and little like he might cry, and that made it so much worse for Ryan.  He hated to disappoint the boy.

 

Brendon's eyes glazed over not a second later, and Ryan spread his fingers in Brendon, trying to make him feel as full as he needed to be.  “Add another finger,” Brendon demanded, voice cracking.

 

Ryan gulped.  He already had four in Brendon, and that was a lot, he usually didn't do that with him.  It would be way too gruesome to add his thumb.  Brendon would have to settle.  “No,” Ryan said, firmly, “four is enough.”

 

“I can take it,” Brendon insisted.

 

“No, you can't.”

 

“ _ Ryan. _ ”

 

“Brendon, I need you to listen to me and to yourself.  I'm not going to fist you.”

 

Brendon hesitated, then whimpered.  “Please?” He said.

 

Ryan clenched his jaw and smoothed a hand over Brendon's inner thigh.  “No.  I'm sorry, I won't do it.”

 

When Ryan held firm and wouldn't add anything else inside Brendon, the boy reached between his legs and inched one of his own fingers in, alongside Ryan's.  Ryan couldn't look, but Brendon came instantly.  He supposed it was worth it if it would keep Brendon satisfied.

 

The next four hours were complete torture.  Ryan felt miserable, partly frustrated with himself, partly concerned for Brendon.  He seemed to grow even more desperate as the night went on, and he burst into tears several times when Ryan denied him his cock.  Closer to midnight, Ryan managed to fuck him again, letting Brendon do most of the work, but that was the best Ryan could do for him.  Other than that, he was simply trying to comfort his boyfriend, and talk him through his apparent agony.

 

Brendon was crying mainly because it hurt, because the lack of being full ached, and Ryan hated seeing him in pain more than anything.  He was protective, and it was awful for him that he couldn't do anything for Brendon.  On top of that, Brendon's sobs were pathetic and breathless, and Ryan just couldn't get him to stop.

 

Finally,  _ finally _ , midnight hit, and Brendon's tears ceased.  Ryan hesitantly removed the fingers he had kept inside Brendon most of the time, and Brendon went completely limp underneath him.  This was okay, this was a good sign, as it let Ryan know Brendon would just fall asleep soon, and in the morning they could have a fresh start.

 

Ryan held Brendon close, whispered, “I'm sorry,” in his ear, and pressed a soft kiss to his neck.

 

“It's over now,” Brendon replied, and his hand found Ryan's on his chest.  Brendon intertwined them, and that was the last of his movements before he passed out into a deep sleep.

 

<<<<<>>>>

 

They didn't talk about anything that happened that night for a whole week, and Ryan thought that was a stupid mistake when the next Wednesday hit.  They were at home, sitting on the couch, Brendon in sweatpants and a hoodie of Ryan's.  Brendon was more fidgety than usual, and he kept checking the clock.  Ryan didn't like it, and rested a hand on Brendon's knee to still him, give him a calming touch.  Brendon leaned away from it, and Ryan disliked that even more.  That wasn't like Brendon; he usually loved physical affection of all sorts.

 

Ryan cleared his throat.  “Sweetheart,” he began.

 

“What?” Brendon replied, a bit snippy for his normal, warm voice.

 

“What's on your mind?” Ryan asked, keeping it light.

 

“Nothing, I'm just . . . worried.”

 

“About what, baby boy?” Ryan said, although he thought he might already know.

 

Brendon bit his bottom lip.  “I'm just wondering if you'll be able to fuck me tonight or if it'll just hurt again,” he confessed.

 

Ryan's chest ached at his words.  “I don't know,” Ryan said.  “I don't know why it didn't work last week for me, and I don't know what will happen tonight.”

 

“Are you—are you sure?  Was there anything different last week?”

 

Trying to think back, Ryan's eyebrows furrowed.  The day was pretty average for both of them, he didn't think he had changed anything.  Ryan told him as much.

 

“Was it something I did?” Brendon asked, eyes wide and searching Ryan's face with a different kind of desperation.

 

It took Ryan a moment to even comprehend what Brendon was trying to say, and when he did, he shook his head.  “No, B, of course not.  It's not your fault at all, I wasn't trying to punish you.”

 

“Well, it kind of felt like it,” Brendon said, scratching the back of his head.

 

“I wouldn't ever do that to you, babe.  I would never put you in pain like that, do you understand?” Ryan's voice was soft, but his words were serious and deeper than they sounded.

 

“You weren't mad at me?”

 

“No, of course not.  And even if I was, I still would've helped you.  I can't stand to see you suffer like that.”

 

“Then why didn't you just fuck me?” Brendon questioned, timid and clearly upset.  It was disconcerting to Ryan, and made him uncomfortable.  His job was to make Brendon happy, and he was failing.

 

“I couldn't fuck you, B.  I don't know why, but for some reason I just wasn't feeling it, I'm sorry,” Ryan explained, as tenderly as he could.

 

“Are you just not attracted to me anymore?” Brendon whispered, voice shaking.  Ryan was studying his face, watching his lower lip begin to tremble and his eyes to fill with tears.  Ryan's heart broke in two, right there, and he hastily cupped Brendon's face in his palms.

 

“Lover, I'm insanely attracted to you, you know that.  Whatever happened last week had nothing to do with you.  I just . . . didn't get hit with it like we both normally do, you know? But that still doesn't mean I don't think you're the most beautiful thing in the world.”

 

“Is there someone else?” Brendon questioned, not reacting in the slightest to Ryan caressing his cheek.

 

“No, of course not.  Fucking hell, Brendon, I can't even look at other people now that I have you.  You're everything to me.”

 

Brendon abruptly pulled away from Ryan's touch.  “There has to be  _ something _ ,” Brendon insisted.  “Something's changed.”

 

Ryan thought Brendon seemed to be forgetting that last week Ryan had fucked him twice in the ass and once in the mouth within the span of six hours, like any normal human with experience in bed could do.  His attraction to Brendon hadn't decreased at all, but Brendon wasn't seeing that.

 

“Nothing's changed.  I'm just as confused as you are,” Ryan said.

 

“But that doesn't make sense.  I don't get it,” Brendon said, defensive.

 

“I don't get it, either.”

 

Brendon was suspicious of Ryan.  “I feel like there’s something I'm doing wrong that you aren't telling me, or you've found someone else,” Brendon said.

 

“No, no, you're wrong.  I really don't know, B, I wish I did.”  Ryan was more exasperated than anything, but Brendon had his eyes narrowed at Ryan.  He wasn't really threatening, not with the way he appeared curled up and saddened instead of truly angry.

 

Ryan hated it.

 

An alarm on Brendon's phone went off, signaling it was ten to six.  It was supposed to give them time to set up.  Ryan looked at Brendon, and Brendon gave him a look of distaste.

 

“I'll take a little bit of pain medicine,” Brendon said, “because I don't think I'll be getting much of anything from you tonight.”  Those words hit Ryan like a punch in the stomach; and he frowned to himself, finding it difficult to make eye contact with Brendon now.

 

“Do you want me to at least get it for you?” Ryan offered.

 

“I—I can take care of myself.  I will take care of myself,” Brendon decided, and stood up.

 

“Brendon . . .” Ryan said, to get Brendon to stay for just a moment longer.

 

“Don't worry about me,” Brendon said, flatly.

 

Ryan watched him walk away, and heard the door to their bedroom thud shut.

 

A few moments later, he found himself bored and lonely and unsettled on the couch, turning up the TV to drown out the sound of Brendon's whines and moans.

 

<<<<<>>>>>

 

Brendon had forgiven Ryan after he figured out he had no reason to be insecure.  Ryan was relieved, because he hated it when Brendon was mad at him and he couldn't do anything to fix it.

 

It was a damned good thing he had Brendon there for him, that Brendon was being as affectionate as normal, if not more so, because every week, Ryan was hit with a truckload of self-loathing and a feeling of inadequacy.  He hated how he couldn't do anything for Brendon, couldn't just fuck him the way Brendon wanted him to, couldn't even help Brendon when he was in pain.  Brendon had stopped taking such things personally, but now Ryan was internalizing it.

 

He found himself apologizing to Brendon, on a Thursday morning, when Brendon woke up tense and disconcerted after a night of fucking himself on his own fingers.

 

Ryan knew there wasn't much he could do, but he wished there was.  “You deserve better,” Ryan told him, working on massaging Brendon's shoulders.  “You deserve so much better than me.”  He felt knots in the muscle underneath Brendon's shoulder blades, and he dug his thumbs into them, trying to work them loose.

 

Brendon scoffed.  “Better than you?  It doesn't get better than you, love.  You're perfect for me.”

 

“You should at least have someone who can help you on Wednesday nights.”

 

“You do help me,” Brendon said.

 

“But it's not enough.  I'm not enough for you.”

 

Brendon turned around to rest his hands on Ryan's chest.  “If you're implying that I should leave you, then you're out of your mind.  I could never do that.”

 

Ryan chewed the inside of his cheek.  “I would really miss you a lot.”

 

Brendon giggled.  “I would miss you, too.”

 

“But still.  You should be with someone who can really take care of you.”

 

“Nobody would ever take care of me as much as you do, Ryan.  Don't be stupid.”

 

“You just need more than me now, though,” Ryan said.

 

“Well, it's not like I need another man to fuck me,” Brendon said, sarcastically.

 

Ryan winced.  “You kind of do.”

 

Brendon immediately combatted it. “Ryan, I love you, you're all that I need—wait a second.”  Brendon's eyes widened, and Ryan could see the realization hit him, the gears starting to turn in his head.  Ryan groaned.  “Brilliant,” Brendon breathed.

 

“Dammit.”

 

“Baby, baby, listen,” Brendon rushed out, trying not to get himself too excited, Ryan could see, “it would only be one night a week, and—and, you wouldn't have to stress about me or worry about me, you could just hand me off to someone else—”

 

Ryan clenched his jaw and felt a little sick to his stomach.  “Is that what you want?” He asked.

 

“How could I not?  It would help us both out so much, it wouldn’t hurt me anymore . . .”

 

Ryan had to admit his heart had grown heavy from watching Brendon be in so much pain over the past few weeks.  Yet the thought of someone else fucking Brendon, seeing Brendon in that state . . . it made Ryan’s insides feel ice cold.  “You would sleep with someone else?” Ryan blurted out, voice meek and questioning.

 

Brendon’s face fell.  “Lover, it’s not like I would be cheating on you, it would just, like, relieve the tension.  It hurts so bad, Ryan, I can’t see myself just handling it by myself forever, I need something to help me.”

 

Ryan frowned.  He really wasn’t good enough for Brendon, he thought.  Brendon would be okay without him.  It wouldn’t make a difference to Brendon if Ryan left him.  “You need someone else,” Ryan said.

 

Brendon bit his lip, looking fretful and torn.  “I mean, I guess I could just find some other way around it, or just deal with it.  I’ll build up some resistance to pain after a while, right?  I’ll be okay.”

 

Then, Ryan felt guilty.  Guilty for denying Brendon something that would obviously make him feel better, take him out of pain.  “You should do whatever helps you,” Ryan muttered.

 

“Not if it doesn’t make you happy,” Brendon said, sitting up straighter.

 

“I just—I love you a lot, and maybe I’m way too jealous of a person, but it just doesn’t feel right for you to be okay with sleeping with someone else.”

 

“I don’t really want anyone else, either.  But I just think it would be better if I had someone else to-to help me out, just to take the edge off.”

 

“I understand,” Ryan said.

 

“But, it’s not worth it if you’re gonna feel like I’m cheating on you.  I don’t want to hurt you or anything.”

 

Ryan fell silent to consider for a moment.  Internally, all he ended up doing was scolding himself for being so selfish and inconsiderate.  Brendon was in physical need of something Ryan couldn’t provide, and it wasn’t something personal Brendon was doing against him, he told himself.  The boy he loved was in pain six hours a night once a week, and there was this golden opportunity for Ryan to help change that for him.  He should be jumping at the chance.  If he was going to truly be loving and supportive of Brendon, then he just needed to accept what the right decision was.

 

He had to do whatever it took to keep Brendon comfortable, at the very least.  He took that commitment from the moment he started dating Brendon, even before that, probably.  And if that measure was letting Brendon sleep with another man, then it just had to be done.

 

“I don’t think you would cheat on me, B.  So I think this is okay.  We can do . . . whatever it takes to make you feel better, okay?  I promise,” Ryan said.

 

Brendon searched his face for a short moment, checking to see if he was being genuine, and then he beamed.  He wrapped his arms around Ryan’s neck, kissing him hard on the lips, pushing Ryan back into the mattress.  “Holy shit, thank you.  This doesn’t mean anything, I swear, I just need the sex from someone, but I love you.  I love you,” Brendon repeated.

 

“I love you too, baby boy.  Now, who do you want it to be?” Ryan asked.

 

Brendon looked off, furrowing his eyebrows.  “I don’t know.  We could hire someone, maybe?” Brendon asked, unsure sounding.

 

Ryan’s stomach twisted again, worse with the thought of a total  _ stranger _ fucking Brendon.  “No,” he immediately said.

 

“What?”

 

“No.  Let’s not hire someone.  Please?  I don’t trust other people, who don’t know you.  They won’t appreciate you, or know how to take care of you, and—and what if they hurt you?  I can’t let that happen,” Ryan said.

 

Brendon grinned.  “You’re sweet.  Who, then?”

 

“Everyone has the hots for you, B, it shouldn’t be hard to find someone.  Like, all of our friends.”

 

“ _ All _ of our friends?” Brendon asked, suddenly getting a sly, mischievous look across his face.

 

Ryan closed his eyes.  Deep breaths, he told himself, calm down.  “I guess you do need more than one person, huh?”

 

“If I could clone you ten times, I would,” Brendon whispered, “but, yes.  I think we know the average person can’t last six hours in bed.”

 

“Wish I could,” Ryan said.

 

“It’s not your fault I’m insanely horny one night a week.  I’m the weird one.”

 

“Horny or not, you are the weird one,” Ryan teased.  “All jokes aside, though, I need to know who’s fucking you, and I need to trust them, or else I’m gonna be really nervous about it the whole time.”  It still hadn’t set in that Brendon was going to be sleeping with someone else, that someone else would be getting hard for Brendon, making Brendon moan, making Brendon come, but from the out-of-reality state Ryan was in, he had to attempt to prepare himself.

 

“What, are you gonna watch, too?” Brendon jokingly asked.

 

“Yes,” Ryan instantly replied.

 

Brendon laughed at him and kissed him again.

 

<<<<<>>>>>

 

Ryan hated to think of the awkward conversations and confessions that got him to the place that he was in—taking his pants off, straddling a very naked Brendon on their recently cleaned kitchen table, with seven of their closest friends watching.  Waiting.  Ryan was a little more than nervous at best—nauseous described his feelings better—with his fingers shaking as he reached out to brush Brendon’s hair back from his face.  Brendon shuddered at the touch, and Ryan looked up at the clock on the opposite wall.  6:05.  Ryan felt his face burning, feeling several pairs of eyes at his back, but was comforted by the feeling of Brendon’s skin, grounding him.  If he could just focus on Brendon, then everything would be okay.

 

He opened the bottle of lube that was sitting on the table next to them, thoroughly coating his fingers.  Brendon let out an impatient huff, but Ryan wasn’t bothered by it.  He would just have to wait.  Ryan was being more careful than usual as he slowly slipped a finger in Brendon, hoping everyone was watching, paying attention to the correct way to treat Brendon.  They all needed to be good to him, or else Ryan would go after them (which, according to Brendon, was a horrible idea, because there was no way Ryan stood a chance fighting someone like Zack or Travie, or even Gabe), and it would not be pretty.

 

Brendon rocked his hips back against Ryan’s fingers, and was clearly too far gone to care much about the other people watching them.  After stretching Brendon open with three of his long fingers, the fingers Brendon loved, the ones that could make him come by themselves, Ryan asked, “Are you ready, baby boy?”

 

Ryan knew that Brendon was in total need of his cock all along, and had been ready before Ryan had fingered him, but he felt the need to demonstrate how communication worked between him and Brendon when they fucked.  “Fuck, Ryan, just fuck me already,” Brendon said, reaching blindly for Ryan’s cock.  Ryan nodded before he gently picked Brendon’s legs up, and pushed his cock into him.  Brendon turned his head to the side, closing his eyes and moaning as Ryan went all the way in, his hips meeting Brendon’s.

 

Against his stomach, Brendon’s cock was hard and leaking, and since Ryan wanted to prove that he could make Brendon feel better than anyone else in the room, Ryan wrapped a hand around him.  Brendon came from just a little bit of touching, and Ryan was suddenly proud that he was the one who had done that to Brendon.

 

He thrusted into Brendon particularly hard right after Brendon came for the first time, just so Brendon knew he was still there and not going anywhere, not yet.  Brendon’s dark eyes were wild and looked at Ryan with a certain passion that felt too intimate for anyone else to see, and Ryan’s stomach lurched with possessiveness.  He assured himself that there were certain looks Brendon would reserve specifically for him, even when Brendon was this out of it with arousal, but only when he could lean down and suck a hickey into Brendon’s neck.  The boy’s neck was a delicate, pale canvas, and Ryan wanted to mark it up, make it obvious he had been there.

 

Brendon, apparently, was loving the attention from Ryan’s lips on his neck, and he came again in only a few moments.

 

After trying to fuck Brendon for as long as he could, and after leaving several hickeys all over Brendon’s collarbone and neck, Ryan couldn’t stop himself from coming inside Brendon.  To cover up his own noises, he kissed Brendon on the mouth, quickly making out with him while he still could.

 

He pulled out, lowering Brendon’s legs back down to the wooden table, and stood up.  Forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Brendon, he turned around to face the men in the room who had just watched the whole scene.  They had all stayed quiet, which Ryan appreciated—trying to keep it less awkward and more professional, more of just a favor they were doing for Ryan and Brendon.  That still didn’t change Ryan’s slight uncomfort at the fact they were all sporting erections from just watching Brendon get fucked.

 

“Be careful with him,” Ryan warned, as he had done several times before to each of them—Zack, Spencer, Jon, Pete, William, Gabe, Travie.  “Even if he’s begging you to fuck him hard, make sure you don’t hurt him.”

 

“Fuck me hard,” Brendon said, in a way that was mocking of Ryan but still brutally honest.

 

Ryan rested a hand on Brendon’s knee and said, “Who do you want next, B?”

 

“Anyone who’s willing,” Brendon said.

 

Ryan knew that was anyone, so he aided the decision making process a bit.  Zack was standing nearest to him, and Ryan probably trusted him the most out of anyone.  His job entailed keeping Brendon and himself safe when they were in crowded areas, so it was unlikely he would be anything other than protective of Brendon—truly doing this just so Brendon wouldn’t be in pain.  “Zack,” Ryan said, and tilted his head to gesture to Brendon.

 

Hesitantly, Ryan stepped away from Brendon’s body for Zack to take his place, and Zack was looking to him for reassurance the whole time.  Ryan stiffly nodded, observing Zack grasp Brendons thighs, fingers pressing into his flesh, as Ryan had done moments before.  Brendon shifted slightly, biting his full and swollen bottom lip.  Ryan simply didn’t think he could watch anymore, abruptly changing his mind.  Zack was going to fuck his boyfriend, and Brendon was going to enjoy it, and Ryan was so certain about it that he didn’t feel it necessary for him to monitor the event.  Yet as Ryan was leaving the room, back turned on the sound of Brendon panting, the noise he always made when he was getting fucked in the ass, he suddenly heard Brendon cry out his name.  He looked back at Brendon just in time to see the end of his orgasm, splattering come across his and Zack’s chest, eyes screwed shut.

 

Ryan’s heart pounded.  At least now he had the comfort of knowing Brendon was thinking about him the whole time he was getting fucked.  But now Ryan also felt like staying with Brendon and making him aware of his actual presence the whole time.

 

Spencer fucked Brendon next, and Ryan pulled up a chair next to Brendon’s body.  Brendon kept his eyes closed the whole time, so Ryan petted his hair, or touched the hickeys on his neck, just so Brendon knew he was there.  When Spencer finished inside Brendon, Ryan didn’t want to see it, but Brendon came at the same time with a sob.

 

“You doing okay?” Ryan asked Brendon, when Spencer pulled out and Brendon was getting a break.

 

“I’m good,” Brendon said, eyes fluttering open to look at Ryan.  His pupils were blown, and a sated smile came across his face as he looked at Ryan.  Ryan was relieved, and kissed Brendon’s forehead as an affectionate counterbalance to all the sex Brendon was having.

 

The rest of the guys took turns fucking him, one after the other, and Brendon took load after load up his ass, remaining as aroused and needy as ever.  Aside from still having a hint of jealousy, Ryan was impressed with Brendon for taking it so well, for not complaining or needing to stop at any point.  He held Brendon’s hand, stroked his hair, and talked him through it.  “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.  Such a good boy, so pretty.”  Ryan was glad he knew how to turn Brendon on with just words, because then he could feel a little more responsible for Brendon’s orgasms.  Brendon came a lot more frequently when he had Ryan’s voice in his ear or Ryan’s fingers in his mouth.

 

Eventually, Ryan felt the urge to interject and fuck Brendon himself, once again.  Brendon, still, had been keeping his eyes shut, apparently not caring or wanting to know who the various people fucking him were all night, so it was somewhat of a surprise to him when Ryan slipped four fingers in him at once.  “Oh, fuck,  _ Ryan _ ,” Brendon said, before even opening his eyes.  Ryan smirked up at him.  “Fuck me, baby, need you, need you bad,” Brendon said.

 

Ryan was happy to comply, and he tried not to pay notice to the new fingerprint bruises on Brendon’s thighs from so many people holding them, squeezing them.

 

With Brendon feeling good, enjoying himself, and Ryan having the chance to fuck him every couple hours, the time passed quickly enough that night.  Brendon had a cock in him at all times, only empty for a few seconds when people switched off, and this was finally enough to keep him satisfied.  Ryan could hardly be bitter over it if Brendon was happy and out of pain.  Jon was the last to fuck Brendon that night, and Ryan was glad it worked out that way; Jon was the most gentle out of all of them when it came to Brendon, and he seemed like his main goal was to just make Brendon feel good.

 

As the clock struck midnight, Brendon went completely limp and relaxed, arched back falling flat to the table.  He groaned and panted, struggling to catch his breath, sweat soaked hair stuck to his forehead, red like the rest of his face from exertion.  Ryan was the only one who really knew how exhausted Brendon was feeling, and he would be the only one to take care of Brendon from that point forward.

 

Ryan faced the group of men that were milling around awkwardly.  “There are guest rooms if you want to stay the night, there are showers, help yourself to food, whatever,” Ryan said, gesturing vaguely to the whole house.  He felt Brendon’s hand brush his hip, and Ryan looked down at him.  “You’re staying with me, right?” Brendon whispered, too tired to keep his eyes all the way open.

 

“No, I’m gonna leave you here to fend for yourself on our kitchen table,” Ryan joked.  “Of course I’m going to stay with you, baby boy.”  He let himself look at him for a moment, memorizing the image of a completely ruined Brendon, with come all over his torso, dripping out of his ass, sweat on his face and neck, skin still flushed, hair a mess.  He was beautiful, Ryan thought, downright the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen, and Ryan kissed him on his puffy lips just because he could.

 

“Tired,” Brendon said, when Ryan pulled away from the kiss.

 

“I know, I know.  Let’s get you to bed.”  Ryan bent slightly, inching his hands under Brendon’s torso to lift the boy up.  He was pliant and fit perfectly in Ryan’s arms, weakly holding onto Ryan’s neck.  Ryan could feel his skin thrumming from leftover adrenaline, and it was obviously only exhausting Brendon more at that point.

 

Brendon’s eyes had closed all the way when Ryan started carrying him, but he opened them at the last minute to look at the guys in the room.  “Thank you for tonight.  You’re all awesome in bed, by the way,” Brendon said, and cracked a drowsy grin.  He quickly got too tired from holding his head up, and pressed his face into Ryan’s chest instead.  Ryan turned away to carry him back to the bedroom.

 

He somehow managed to keep Brendon balanced with one arm to close the door behind them.  Their bed looked so cozy and inviting, Ryan was looking forward to crashing himself.  He passed it, though, to set Brendon down in their bathtub, running warm water and bubbles over him before crawling in himself.  Ryan lifted Brendon again, this time to sit Brendon in his lap, and Brendon sighed contently.

 

“So, how are you feeling?” Ryan asked, taking a washcloth and running it across the back of Brendon's neck.

 

“Pretty good.  A little bit sore already, and a little bit gross, but still pretty good.”

 

“You were amazing,” Ryan said.

 

“Thank you,” Brendon giggled.

 

They both fell silent as Ryan washed Brendon's hair, pouring water over his head, getting him all fresh and clean again.  Getting most of the evidence of what they'd done off of him.  Brendon was relaxed and trusting of Ryan, letting Ryan move him or position him however he wanted, just for their comfort.  Brendon mostly stayed in Ryan's lap, nuzzling his neck and slowly leaning more of his weight into Ryan.

 

After a few minutes, Ryan carried Brendon back to bed, laying him down first, tucking him in and making sure he was comfortable.  Brendon closed his eyes and reached out for Ryan, fingers weak and shaking.  Ryan took his hand and crawled in bed behind him, holding Brendon close—a bit tighter than normal; protective.  Brendon was limp like a doll in his arms, and Ryan asked, “Are you doing okay, beautiful?”

 

Brendon just nodded and replied, “M’ sleepy.”

 

“You must be.”

 

“I liked it, though,” Brendon said.

 

Ryan smiled, petting Brendon's damp hair, “I'm glad.”

 

“Were you okay with it?” Brendon asked.  “I know you weren't really the biggest fan of us going through with this, so . . .?”

 

“It's okay.  You felt good, and you weren't in pain.  That's all that really matters.”

 

“But were you jealous?”

 

Ryan brushed a soft kiss to Brendon's neck.  “Maybe a little bit, but you don't need to worry about me.”

 

“If it makes you feel any better,” Brendon said, “nobody feels as good as you do, and I was wishing it was you fucking me the whole time.”

 

“Really?” Ryan asked, meekly.

 

“Really.  And I know I made fun of you for it earlier, but I liked having you there the whole time.”

 

“I couldn't bring myself to leave you.”

 

“Mm.  You're so good to me.  Can we—can we do this again next week, or was this just like—?”

 

“No, we can do this again.  Whatever you want, we can make it work,” Ryan said.

 

Brendon squirmed to turn around, pushing his head up under Ryan's chin.  Ryan rubbed his back and felt his own eyes droop.

 

“I love you,” Brendon said, muffled in Ryan's neck.

 

“I love you, too, baby boy.  Now get some rest.”


End file.
